


Wreckage

by masterwords



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Car Accidents, Hospitals, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterwords/pseuds/masterwords
Summary: A quick, one off whumpy short story inspired by the Season 5 episode "Road Kill".  Driving down country roads at high speeds can be dangerous, as David and Patrick are about to find out on their way home from Elmdale.





	Wreckage

“David?” Patrick called out through the haze of smoke filling the air. The sound of glass slowly dropping to the ground from what was left of the windshield was louder than it should have been in his ringing ears. “David?!” he called again, squinting through wet eyelashes. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, his trembling hands coming away covered in blood. Wincing, he patted his head until he found it – a gash, not terribly big but it was gushing. He pressed the palm of his hand hard against it to stop the bleeding. In the seat beside him, once his vision cleared, he saw David hunched over, motionless. Panic filled his chest and his breath caught in his throat as he fumbled with his buckle. Finally, it came loose and he pushed through his door and ran around to the passenger side of the car, desperately trying to get to David. When he got there, flashes of what had happened bombarded him, seeing the car that smashed into David's door stopped just a few yards away, the driver frantically talking on his cell phone. He stopped for a moment when he saw Patrick, then started gesturing wildly to him. Patrick blinked against the blood dripping into his eyes and went back to looking for a way into the car to help David – his door was crunched and his window was nothing but terrifying shards of glass. 

“Hey! Hey buddy! They said not to move him! The ambulance will be here soon!” the man called out to Patrick, running toward him. Patrick looked at the man incredulously.

“Don't move him?! He's hurt!” Patrick spit, and the man nodded quickly, acknowledging the panic in Patrick's voice.

“I know, but he's got a pulse and he's breathing, I checked while you were out, I checked you both – they said not to move him as long as he was alive,” the other man said, out of breath. His face was bloody, but he looked otherwise unharmed. Patrick looked through the window at his boyfriend and could feel his heart breaking, not knowing what was wrong. His head was swimming and his ears were ringing and he suddenly felt incredibly disoriented. He stumbled backward a bit, leaning against the crumpled mass that was his car and pushed his hand hard against the cut on his head. 

“What...what happened?” he stammered, his eyes squeezed closed against the bright sunlight. He was frozen now, he couldn't move. 

“There was a deer, it jumped out in front of our cars and we both slammed on our breaks and tried to miss it but your car spun into my lane and I hit you...” the man said, and Patrick suddenly remembered seeing the deer and hearing David cry out for Patrick to slow down, and then it was all crunching metal and breaking glass and screaming and then black. Patrick shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts. 

“Yeah...the deer...did we...did we hit it?” he asked quietly, though he truly didn't care. He just felt like he should ask. The man shook his head. 

“No, I don't think so...I haven't seen it anywhere...” Before he could say anything else, they both heard the blaring sirens heading toward them. Patrick moved closer to David's door, reaching in and placing his hand on David's back. He couldn't go another moment without touching him. He could feel David's ribs as he breathed, it was slow and labored but he was breathing. He was breathing. 

Before Patrick knew it, he was being guided toward an ambulance and watching with horror as his car was cut apart to pull David from the wreckage. They laid him down on a stretcher, bracing his neck and placing an oxygen mask over his face. He was pale and bloody, but alive. Alive. 

“Mr. Brewer? Mr. Brewer?” Patrick blinked, coming back to reality as an EMT called his name. They had patched up his forehead and wrapped him in a blanket while he was lost watching David. “Mr. Brewer? Are you hurt anywhere else?” Patrick shook his head, still watching as they hurriedly got David secured on the stretcher near the car and began rolling him toward the ambulance. 

“Is he...is he ok?” Patrick mumbled, tears filling his eyes now. The EMT looked over at David and back at Patrick. 

“Let's get into the ambulance, you can ride with him,” was all he said, helping Patrick up and into the seat so they could push David inside. 

The ambulance roared down the street with it's siren screaming, but the ride seemed to take ages anyway. Patrick couldn't take his eyes off of David, his hand setting gently on his lover's. Every now and then, he saw David's eyes flutter just slightly open, but he waited until they were turning hurriedly into the emergency room parking lot before he came to. He looked up and around with a look of utter confusion, and Patrick leaned over, trying to get into his line of sight. 

“David,” Patrick whispered, smiling a desperate smile. David just looked at him, blinking slowly in a daze. 

“Mr. Rose,” the EMT began, leaning over David now. “Mr. Rose, do you know what happened?” 

David blinked and looked at Patrick desperately, a tear falling down his cheek. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out, just a choking noise. The EMT nodded and readjusted the oxygen mask. 

“It's ok, Mr. Rose, you're in good hands...you were in a car accident, but you're in good hands,” the EMT assured him. The ambulance came to a stop and the doors swung open quickly, letting a swarm of people in scrubs begin pulling at the stretcher to take David into the hospital. Patrick couldn't move. 

“Mr. Brewer?” a kind faced older woman in scrubs asked, shocking Patrick out of his trance. He squinted at her. “Patrick Brewer?”

Patrick nodded. She smiled. “Come with me, please. We'll get you all checked out,” she began, but Patrick cut her off. 

“I'm fine,” he began, “I'm fine...I just need to know where David is...”

“We need to check you out first. I promise we will make it fast, and then we'll know more about your friend.” 

________________________________________________________________________

It felt like an eternity that they were checking him out, but finally Patrick was released with a mild concussion, a few stitches in his forehead and bruised ribs. He looked around desperately for someone who could tell him where David was, until he finally found the nice nurse who had brought him inside. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, leaning over the counter trying to get her attention. She smiled over at him. 

“Are you ready to see your friend now?” she asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded quickly. “Come with me, he's just back here,” 

Patrick followed her as quickly as he could, his hands trembling. He shoved them into his pockets to try and steady them but it didn't help much. “Is he ok?”

“We are waiting for some tests to come back, but he's awake. He's in a lot of pain and very confused,” she began, pulling back the curtain to reveal David lying in a hospital bed hooked up to all sorts of beeping machines and IVs. “The doctor will be back in about 10 minutes with the results of the x-rays,” the nurse added, closing the curtain behind Patrick and leaving the two of them alone. Patrick stood motionless, staring at David somberly. 

“Patrick?” David whispered. “Is that you?”

“Yes, David, I'm here,” Patrick muttered, feeling hot tears burning in his eyes and blinking them away. He wiped furiously at his cheeks, trying to make sure David didn't see it – he needed to be the strong one. Once he was sure that the tears were gone, he approached the bed and looked his boyfriend over, his eyes scanning every inch of David's perfect body. “I'm here.” 

“Thank God,” David sighed, closing his eyes. Patrick watched tears flood down David's cheeks, and he reached out and gently took David's hand. 

“I'm so sorry, David, this is all my fault...” Patrick began, shaking his head. David bit his lip and nodded his head weakly. 

“You're going to have to make it up to me big time...” he whispered, his voice raspy but sweet music to Patrick's ears. “They had to cut me out of my favorite Helmut Lang sweater.” Patrick let out a soft chuckle and all of the tears he'd tried to hold back flooded out. 

“That's the best news I've had all day,” Patrick replied with a grin. “That thing was hideous.” 

________________________________________________________________________

Two days after the accident, David was discharged from the hospital with a broken collarbone, two fractured vertebrae at the base of his neck, a concussion, stitches and more than a few broken ribs. Patrick had already made arrangements for David to stay at his place while he healed, which unfortunately was just a bedroom he rented from Ray, but it was the best he could do. The hospital had lovely staff who had eased David into Patrick's rental car, but it was up to Patrick from that point. He didn't have much experience caring for anyone, and he already knew David would be high maintenance even if he'd come out of the accident unscathed, which he certainly did not. Every so often on the drive from Elmdale back home, he glanced over at David, who was pale as a ghost and staring out the window. 

“David?” Patrick asked, placing one hand gently on his lover's leg. David looked over at him and Patrick could see fear in his eyes. “David, it's not going to happen again.” David nodded the best he could in his cumbersome neck brace and went back to staring out the window. He had a pit in his stomach every time a car approached theirs, flashing back to watching as the car slammed into his door.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they pulled up at Patrick's place. David stared straight ahead, furrowing his brow. “This isn't the motel, Patrick,” he whispered. Patrick nodded – he'd not bothered to tell David about his plans, he thought it would just cause David anxiety and he didn't need that on top of being in the hospital. 

“Do you want to stay with me?” Patrick asked, looking over at David thoughtfully. “I just thought...” his voice trailed off, now second guessing himself and exactly where they were at in this new relationship. David smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. 

“Mmm...and Ray is ok with this?” David asked, fumbling with his seat-belt with his one good hand. Patrick reached over and popped the button for him. 

“Apparently he has a lot of experience as a caretaker...” Patrick said, stepping out of the car and shutting the door before David could protest. He took his time walking around to David's side, hoping that he could avoid the inevitable tongue lashing that would come with the idea of Ray taking care of him, but it didn't work. David had just waited. 

“Ray? You're going to abandon me with Ray?” David asked incredulously as he slowly and painfully slid out of the car, steadying himself against Patrick. His entire body hurt. “Ray. Ray.”

“Well, I was mostly kidding but...I will need to be at the store...” Patrick started, looping his arm around David's waist and leading him toward the front door. David rolled his eyes and sighed, moving slowly and stiffly. 

“I don't want anyone to come and visit...” David said quietly, his face suddenly very serious. “I really don't. Not yet.” 

“It's a small town, David, everyone knows what happened, they probably heard it...” Patrick said, guiding David now through he and Ray's small apartment and toward his bedroom. “Everyone knows.” Patrick sighed a little, feeling his chest tighten. Everyone knew what he did. He wasn't surprised that David was nervous in the car with him today, after what he'd done. David looked down at Patrick, shocked at the tone his voice had suddenly taken. 

“Patrick,” he started, slowly easing down onto his boyfriend's bed. “You couldn't have stopped what happened.” 

“Couldn't I have? I'm not sure, David. I just...” 

“Ok, we're not having this conversation right now,” David said, waving his one good arm around dramatically. “I am tired and every part of my body hurts and all I want is for you to lay next to me and shut up so we can watch Downton Abbey. Or make me food, I could eat...” 

“You want me to order us a pizza?”

“We could start with that...” David said, raising an eyebrow and letting his lips curl up ever so slightly on one side. “But we may need to negotiate how many pizzas.”


End file.
